He knocked his pipe on the teak rail. When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. "You may die afterwards as soon as you please," retorted Jonathan; "but live till then you shall. It is no crime, none at all. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. It would be a great matter, I must own, to bring Jonathan Wild to justice. She is curiously altered in many ways.
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